


The Best of Friends

by TinkerBella



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinkerBella/pseuds/TinkerBella
Summary: So appaaang/Lindsay suggested a tag for Chisel, because it seems like Mac would have gotten at least a bit injured when he blew up the safe.  So here it is, and I incorporated Bozer because it felt right that Mac's BEST FRIENDS would be watching over him.





	

When Mac walked through the door, Bozer wasn't going to deny it...he was happy as hell his friend was alive and well. Thornton had let him watch Mac on his mission, as much as they could, and it had been scary as hell. Seeing some of what Mac did every day, it impressed Bozer. His best friend put his life on the line to save others. Mac was a damn hero.

 

Besides which, just like he told him, being mad at Mac was like being mad at a puppy. Bozer loved puppies, and he loved his best friend. Things weren't perfect between them, but they were getting better. All the more so when Mac told him he was finally being allowed to go home. The frosting on the cake was being offered a job at the foundation. The cherry on top was learning it would be entry level. Bozer had no clue what the job would entail, but he was thrilled that he would be safe at the foundation and not out in the field risking his life on a mission. Mac was definitely better suited for that lifestyle. 

 

The all around great news deserved another Bozer hug, so he wrapped his arms around his friend and squeezed for all he was worth. Until he heard Mac hiss and felt him stiffen. Bozer let go and stepped back to stare at his friend, not liking the way Mac had gone all pale. 

 

"Are you hurt?" Bozer demanded.

 

"I'm...I'm good," Mac gasped, but he was not the least bit convincing, given he was bent over, arm tucked to his side, obviously in pain.

 

Bozer knew Mac was lying, he just didn't know what to do. "I hurt you!" The thought of causing Mac pain was seriously upsetting.

 

Mac shook his head, then winced. "Bozer...you didn't hurt me." To prove his point, Mac straightened, only to turn a whiter shade of pale right before his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped like a stone.

 

"MAC!" Bozer fell to his knees beside the crumpled form of his friend, only he was too afraid to touch him. "I NEED HELP IN HERE" Bozer shouted. "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

 

"What happened?" It was Thornton who asked the question, as she came barreling through the door. 

 

Bozer pointed at Mac. "I broke him! I broke my best friend. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him! I just hugged him." He continued to ramble, unable to stop himself. "I know he's just a skinny white boy...and I guess I don't know my own strength. I really am sorry. But you can fix him...right?"

 

Thornton ignored Bozer's hysterics as she knelt down and used her good hand to check Mac's pulse. She frowned before reaching for her phone. "I need a medic and a stretcher in the conference room, now!"

 

"No...don't..." Mac protested, his voice a barely there, hoarse whisper. "I'm fine."

 

"I didn't kill you!" Bozer shouted, beyond relieved as he stared down at his friend. Who still looked too pale, but all that mattered was that he was alive and talking.

 

Mac made to sit up, wincing at the movement and stopping only because Thornton glared at him. "Of course you didn't kill me, Bozer. I'm fine," he repeated firmly.

 

"Sure you are, Mac." Thornton was cool and controlled and she calmly drawled, "Because you always pass out when you're perfectly fine." As she spoke a two medics with a stretcher entered the room going to work immediately. One taking Mac's pulse, the other checking for injuries.

 

Bozer was impressed. "Dayum, you guys are fast. My boy is okay, right? You're going to fix him right up?"

 

Mac was the one who replied. "I'm not broken, Bozer. I don't need fixing." 

 

"I think we'll let a doctor make that call," Thornton interjected, before Bozer could say anything. She looked at the medics. "Make sure he complies." To Mac she said, "If you get cleared you can go home, but the doctor makes the call. Either way, you're on leave of absence for the next few days. Your entire team has earned it." 

 

"Fine." Mac gave in because he knew it was non-negotiable. "But I can walk to the infirmary." He got up, moving slowly, waving off the medics who tried to help him.

 

Bozer watched them go before turning to Thornton. "So...does Mac spend a lot of time in the infirmary?" He was thinking of all the times his friend would come home from what Bozer thought were simple work trips, only to be limping or moving stiffly. When he called Mac on it, his friend would just say he hurt himself hiking, or tripped while on a run. Which Bozer had never fully believed, because he knew Mac always moved with purposeful grace. Now he understood what was going on and it bothered him. 

 

Thornton was watching Bozer closely, as if understanding exactly what he had just worked out in his head. She was surprisingly honest in her reply. "Probably not as often as he should. He doesn't like being *fussed over* so to speak."

 

"Don't I know it." Bozer shook his head, thinking back on all their childhood adventures and the injuries that went along with them. "One time we were riding our bikes and the chain broke on Mac's bike. He took a header over the handlebars and it was one bad spill. But he got up and said he was fine, before somehow getting the chain hooked back on using a paper clip. I didn't find out, until the next day, that he's broken his wrist. The cast on his arm gave it away."

 

"Sounds like MacGyver," Thornton allowed. "Why don't you come with me and we'll check on him."

 

Bozer was down with that. "I'm right behind you." He followed Thornton out of the room and down a series of hallways before they came to a door marked *INFIRMARY*. They entered to find Mac, sitting on a med bed, arguing with a woman in a white lab coat.

 

Thornton walked over and cut him off, turning her attention to the doctor. "So how is he?"

 

The Doctor sighed. "Hard to say since he wouldn't really let me look at him properly. But from what I have observed, I'm guessing a mild concussion and bruised ribs. It goes without saying that he's exhausted, dehydrated and could stand to put some weight on."

 

"Good luck with that. I've been trying to fatten him up for years," Bozer snorted, amused. He pointedly ignored the glare Mac shot his way.

 

"Can he go home?" Thornton queried.

 

Making a face, the doctor replied, "He can, but he needs to rest and eat." 

 

Mac cleared his throat to get their collective attention. "*HE* is right here so stop talking about me like I'm not." As he spoke, Mac got off the bed he had been sitting on, wincing and moving stiffly. 

 

"I'll make sure he eats and rests," Bozer offered, finding himself hovering around his friend. He didn't like seeing Mac look so unsteady on his feet. Reisting the urge to wrap a supporting arm around MacGyver, Bozer still managed to guide him to the door. It was obvious Mac was ready to go. But before walking out, Bozer turned to Thornton. "So when do I report to work?"

 

"Same day as Mac," she replied. "See you then."

 

Bozer couldn't stop a smile from spreading across his face. "See you then, Boss Lady." With a wave he ducked out the door, pulling his cell phone out to send out a quick text, before running to catch up to Mac.

 

When they pulled up in front of the house, Bozer parked the car then jumped out and ran to the passenger door. Mac was already stepping out, but Bozer was ready in case he felt dizzy or stumbled.

 

Mac rolled his eyes as they made their way to the front door. "Bozer, I'm not going to face plant. Chill out."

 

"So sue me if I'm concerned," Bozer shot back. "You collapsed at my feet, Mac. Do you know how much that freaked me out?"

 

"I caught the tail end of your freak out," Mac reminded him. "I get it, but I'm okay. Seriously. I'm fine."

 

Bozer arched an eye-brow at him, a-la a disbelieving Spock. "After you face planted I talked to Thornton about how often you get hurt on your missions. And then I started thinking back on all the times you came back from a *work trip*", he did air quotes before continuing. "All those lame stories about hurting yourself running or tripping, or whatever. You got hurt because people shot at you, or attacked you in some way."

 

Mac shrugged, then instantly regretted it. "I was there, but I survived. I'm tougher than I look."

 

"Good thing." Bozer couldn't help but chuckle. "Because you look about as tough as a Labrador puppy right now."

 

"Would you please stop with the puppy references?" Mac begged. He might have said more but as they entered the house he caught sight of a familiar face.

 

Jack waved at him from the couch. "Hey, bro. How are you feeling?"

 

Mac turned to Bozer, glaring daggers. "You called Jack?"

 

"Technically I texted him," Bozer countered, turning to close the door before facing the wrath of Mac. He held up his hands to forestall further argument. "Look, I'm new to this world you live in and I figured I could use Jack's help to keep you in line."

 

"Keep me in line?" Mac ground out, his blue eyes flashing a warning.

 

Jack interjected his own two cents. "I do have more skill in watching over you and making you behave. Mac. And let's face it, you're more stubborn than a mule and about as cooperative."

 

Mac gave them both the evil eye. "I'm not sure who I hate more at the moment," he muttered, before making his way to the kitchen and straight for the coffee pot, while and pulling a mug out of the cupboard. It was obvious that Jack had made the coffee, because it smelled as strong as it looked, but Mac was desperate for caffeine.

 

"No coffee for you," Bozer announced, plucking the mug out of Mac's hand and herding him towards his bedroom. "You are going to change into something you can fall asleep in, while I take a quick shower. When I get out I expect you to be resting on the couch, and I'm going to make you your favorite chilling out meal."

 

"Who died and made you boss?" Mac complained, but he let himself be nudged into his room. He did not, however, resist the urge to make a face at his friend before closing the door.

 

Through which Bozer shouted, "And stay out of my kitchen!" That said he headed to his own room, looking forward to a shower and a change of clothes. "Jack, make sure my boy listens," he called to the older man, before shutting his bedroom door and stripping down on his way to the bathroom.

 

Jack's response was a wave of his hand while he flipped through the Netflix options with the remote.

 

Mac exited his room five minutes later, having changed into sweat pants and a long-sleeved tee-shirt. He wore socks, but had kicked off his boots and the first thing he did was head straight into the kitchen.

 

"You're not supposed to be in there," Jack warned him, getting up leaning against the counter as he watched Mac pull out a griddle and a stainless steel pot.

 

"I'm not scared of Bozer," Mac replied, moving next to the fridge where he removed bread and cheese and butter. 

 

Jack studied the items. "What are you doing?"

 

Mac grinned. "What does it look like I'm doing?" He leaned over to plug in the griddle and hissed as the movement pulled on his sore ribs. 

 

"Get away from there!" Jack ordered, charging around the island and gently easing Mac away from the griddle. "Go sit before you do more damage."

 

"I'm not going to hurt myself making grilled cheese sandwiches," Mac protested, even as he propped himself against the counter. He rubbed at his forehead, willing away the throbbing ache that had taken up residence. 

 

Jack eyed him with concern. "You okay? For real?"

 

Mac managed a crooked smile. "Mostly. Just tired, it was a long day."

 

"That it was, my friend," Jack concurred. "That it was." He joined studied his friend. "So why grilled cheese?"

 

"Bozer always makes it when I'm sick or stressed." Mac smiled at the memory of it. "It started after how I told him my Grandfather would make it for me. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. It just always felt like...I dunno...just..."

 

"Like home and warmth and security," Jack supplied, totally getting it.

 

Mac nodded. "Yeah. Just like that." Moving to the fridge, Mac opened the freezer and pulled out a red blob in a plastic container. He set it in the sink then turned to his partner. "Jack...about before..."

 

Jack frowned. "Before?" he prompted.

 

"When I said Bozer was my best friend," Mac blurted out, scrubbing his fingers through his hair as he stumbled with what he wanted to say. "You know you're my best friend too, right? I mean...I couldn't navigate my crazy life without the two of you in it."

 

"I know that, brother," Jack replied, a fond smile curving his lips. He went to Mac and pulled him into a, careful, one-armed bro-hug. "It's all good."

 

With perfect timing, Bozer came out of his room and found Mac and Jack having a moment. He grinned at the sight and asked, "Should I give you two some alone time?"

 

Without missing a beat, Jack shot back, "Should I give you a knuckle sandwich? Because I really REALLY like punching things."

 

"I'm a thing now?" Bozer mocked being offended. To be honest, the word play was just what he needed to feel like things might actually get back to normal. Or whatever normal was going to turn out to be for him now.

 

"You're not a thing," Mac was quick to reassure him, even though he knew Bozer hadn't really taken offense. "So...I'm hungry," he announced, getting surprised looks from both his friends, just like he knew he would. Mac scowled. "I think I'm the one who should be offended. Why does everybody act like I don't eat?"

 

Jack chuckled. "Probably because you always have to be reminded to do so." When Mac glared at him, he waved him off. "You tend to prioritize things, bro, and eating is usually at the bottom of the list. But that's okay, because you have me and Bozer to remind you."

 

Bozer could not have agreed more. To the point where he remembered he had warned Mac to stay out of the kitchen. "Stop invading my space, Mac," he scolded, nudging his friend away from the kitchen and onto the couch. "Stay put, I'll be right back." Bozer ran into Mac's room and returned a moment later with a blue and green fuzzy blanket, which he tucked around Mac, after making him stretch out with two pillows behind him. "There." Bozer stepped back to study his handy work. "Comfy?"

 

"You have no idea," MacGyver drawled, as he manfully resisted the urge to scowl at his friend. He knew Bozer meant well and, after everything his best friend had been through the past few days, Mac owed him this. Hell, he owed him more than he could ever pay up. 

 

"Take the remote and find something good to watch while I whip up dinner," Bozer ordered, scooping up the device and handing it over. 

With as much grace as he could muster, Mac took it and resigned himself to being coddled for the time being. He would gradually wean Bozer off this kick. For now he, dutifully, clicked through the channels.

 

Bozer returned to the kitchen and went to work. He found the tomato soup in the sink and set about thawing it, after which he buttered the bread, sliced the cheese and put things in perfect order. All the while he couldn't help but notice how weird it was that everything looked like it was back to normal. Not a bullet hole, piece of glass or broken cabinets to be found anywhere. Sure, a few things were missing, but even the cupboards looked to be restocked the way they had been.

 

"Something wrong?" Jack asked, having noticed Bozer's preoccupation. 

 

"It looks...normal," Bozer replied.

 

Jack knew what he was saying. "Yeah...that's what the foundation does. Cleans up and puts things back the way they found them. For the most part. But let's not shop talk. When is dinner going to be read?. I'm starving." 

 

Bozer waved a spatula at him. "You can't rush greatness, Jack." He focused on the sandwiches for a few minutes, while also shooting glances at MacGyver on the couch. Bozer turned to Jack and in a whisper asked, "The doc lady said Mac might have a mild concussion. Can he have aspirin?"

 

"Sure, why?" Jack was surprised by the question, but when Bozer gestured towards the couch and he saw Mac with his head back, eyes closed and rubbing his temples, he understood. "I'll go get some." He knew exactly where they were in the medicine cabinet.

 

A moment later Jack was back with the pills and Bozer had a bottle of water ready. He kept half his attention on stirring the soup and half on Jack and MacGyver.

 

Mac was surprised when Jack sat down on the coffee table in front of him and held out a bottle of water. "What's this for?" he asked, even as he took it.

 

"For these." Jack held out his hand to reveal two ibuprofen in his palm. "Don't even argue, Mac. It's obvious you're hurting."

 

"How come you didn't get banged up?" Mac countered, feeling a bit disgruntled even as he accepted the pills and tossed them back.

 

Jack grinned, looking more than a bit smug. "I happen to run faster than you."

 

Mac snorted, then grimaced, then scowled when Jack eyed him with concern. "You only run faster than me when chased," he, happily, pointed out.

 

"Well, you're not wrong there," Jack allowed. "But I also happen to have more padding on my bones, bud. Take that into consideration when we're trying to fatten you up."

 

"Speaking of which," Bozer interjected, as he carried a tray over to the coffee table, nodding at Jack to move. He set it down and announced, "Dinner is served." Smiling he handed Mac a mug of tomato soup along with a plate with two grilled cheese sandwiches.

 

Settling the plate on his lap, Mac took on triangle, dunked it in the steaming soup, then took a bite. As he chewed and swallowed, he hummed with pleasure.

 

Which made Jack hurry to get his own mug and plate and dig in, Bozer following suit. For a time there was only the sound of eating, until Mac set his empty mug aside. His plate, however, still held a full sandwich.

 

"You didn't finish," Bozer said, stating the obvious.

 

"I'm full." Mac gave him puppy dog eyes. "I'll eat more later, I promise."

 

Bozer shook a finger at him. "I'm going to hold you to that promise." It had been his on going personal challenge to fatten Mac up, and some day he would achieve his goal. Having finished with his own serving, Bozer turned to Jack. "You up for another refill?"

 

Jack shook his head. He had downed two mugs of soup and three sandwiches. "I'm officially stuffed. Good eats, Bozer. You're da man!" They high-fived each other, then Jack got up to clear the plates and fill the dishwasher.

 

"I'll help," Mac offered, throwing off the blanket. 

 

"Don't you dare!" Bozer shot back, smoothing the blanket back into place and glaring at his friend. "You need to rest. Or I could call Thornton and tell her you're disobeying doctor's orders."

 

Mac eyes widened in astonishment. "You wouldn't dare?"

 

Bozer's response was to pull out his cell phone, finger poised over it. "Try me. I have to say, boss lady is very scary."

 

"You have no idea," Jack called out over the sound of running water as he rinsed off the dishes.

 

"Fine." Mac sighed, pouted, then reached for the remote. "I'll stay put." But he didn't relax until Bozer slipped the cell phone back into his pocket. Thornton, when crossed, was indeed very scary.

 

Jack watched the exchange with feeling both content and amused. Life was slowly heading back into what passed for normal and he had a feeling Bozer was going to fit right in and, in the long run, be a useful in helping Jack keep MacGyver in line. So to speak. "So, who wants to watch Die Hard?"

 

Mac groaned, rolling his eyes. "Really? There are other movies, you know that...right, Jack? Movies that don't have Bruce Willis in them."

 

"I vote for a Harry Potter marathon," Bozer countered. They had been a favorite for him and Mac growing up, and they were his guilty pleasure now whenever he was feeling out of sorts. After everything that had gone down the past couple of days, he was feeling beyond out of sorts.

 

"Harry Potter? Seriously?" Jack looked confused.

 

Mac decided to stay out of it. "You two duke it out, I'm good either way."

 

Jack glared at Mac. "You just made fun of Die Hard."

 

"Default setting, sorry." Mac wasn't the least bit sorry, and they both knew it.

 

"Well...since Bozer is the new kid on the block, we'll go with his pick." Jack would never admit it, but he was a closet fan of the Harry Potter movies, so watching would not be a hardship in the least.

 

Movie choice decided, Bozer popped in the DVD and they all settled in to watch. They were half way through the Sorcerer's Stone when Mac fell asleep on them. So Jack and Bozer continued watching until the end, then Bozer got up to pop the second movie in.

 

Ten minutes in and Bozer stated, "I worry about him."

 

Jack didn't pretend to know who he was talking about. "Me too."

 

"I'm going to worry about him more, now that I know how dangerous his job is." The reality of it all was all of the sudden hitting Bozer, and hitting him hard. He didn't see bullet holes or wrecked furniture and broken glass anymore, but he remembered those bullets flying and glass shattering like he was caught up in the middle of it again.

 

"Don't get lost in your head, Bozer," Jack warned him, knowing exactly what was going on. "You have to let it go and move on. You're alive, we're alive...it's all good."

 

"Easy for you to say, you're used to being shot it." Bozer didn't think he would ever be able to forget it. To top it off, every time Mac went out on a mission, Bozer was going to be worried as hell that he wouldn't come back this time. And not just Mac, but Jack and Riley too. Beautiful, sweet Riley.

 

Once again, Jack seemed to read Bozer's mind. "When we go on a mission, we always plan on coming back. And Mac, he uses that big brain of his and makes it happen. He's resourceful in ways you can't even imagine. Hell, every time I think he can't surprise me with something he does, he manages to up his game. Sometimes it comes down to the fact that he's just so damn brave it makes me proud."

 

Bozer didn't doubt that. "Putting yourselves in danger like you do, on purpose no less, I think you're all incredibly brave."

 

"We are," Jack allowed. "But you should have seen Mac yesterday, when he scooped up that live grenade and hurled it back out the window. I have never been so scared in my life, and Mac...he was shaking like a leaf. That's the kind of thing we face, but then we shake it off and move on."

 

"A live grenade?" Bozer almost shouted the words, only to freeze and stare over at the couch. Amazingly, Mac didn't even flinch. Rising to his feet, Bozer gestured for Jack to join him in the kitchen. Once there, he picked up where he had left off. "Are you kidding me? A real live grenade?"

 

Jack nodded. "Yep. The real deal."

 

Just the thought of it blew Bozer's mind. "How does he do that? How do you do that? Put yourselves at risk like that."

 

"It's the job, man." Jack patted Bozer on the shoulder, seeing how shook up he was. So he tried to explain it as plainly as he could. "It's scary at times, but I have a secret weapon."

 

"A secret weapon?" Bozer was both intrigued and confused.

 

Jack nodded. "Yep. I have MacGyver. The kid has a gift, an amazing gift, and he uses it to save people. He takes me along for the ride to watch his back...to keep him safe so he can do what he does. It's what we do. I can't explain it any better than that."

 

Bozer thought he understood. "He's a hero."

 

"That he is." Jack grinned. 

 

"You're all heroes." Bozer meant it, and he was starting to understand exactly how amazing Mac and his friends were. Moving back to the couch, Bozer stared down at MacGyver. His friend was sound asleep, curled up on his side, hair mussed and looking all of about sixteen years old. He might be a hero, but he looked more like a cuddly puppy who was more bark than bite.

 

Jack moved to join Bozer, grinning as he stared down at Mac. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" 

 

Bozer was. "Selfie time!" 

 

"Hell yeah!" Jack began patting his pants pockets. "Dammit, I don't have my phone. Mac lost it on me."

 

"I have mine." Bozer waved it in the air and was about to lean over the back of the couch so he could get into frame, when a familiar deep voice startled him.

 

"I didn't lose it, it floated away," Mac drawled. "If you take pictures of me sleeping, Bozer, I will booby trap your phone and you will never know when or where. Next time you go to use it everything might just magically disappear."

 

Bozer didn't hesitate to stuff the phone back in his pocket. "No selfies, got it." He knew Mac could follow through on his threat. Moving around the couch, he settled into the arm chair next to it. "I thought you were sleeping." 

 

Mac sat up, moving slowly. "The two of you are very loud. And, for the record, I'm not a hero. Nor am I gifted." He stared at his hands, fingers twitching with the need to be doing something, like mangling a paper clip. "I'm not even a good friend."

 

Jack moved to sit beside Mac, patting him on the leg. "You're all the above, so suck it up buttercup. There are worse things than being the big, damn, hero."

 

"You're the best friend I ever had, Mac," Bozer stated, sincerity oozing from every pore. "Despite everything...I get it. I know why you didn't tell me the truth. Why you couldn't. But you have always been there for me, and I know you always will be."

 

"Thanks, Bozer." Mac felt as if a bit of the weight resting on his shoulders was finally lifted and he could breathe a little easier. "I will always be there for you. No matter what."

 

Bozer slapped him on the shoulder. "You better, man. I'm holding you to your word."

 

Mac intended to keep it. "Fair enough." He made a move to get up but Jack stopped him.

 

"Where do you think you're going?" Jack looked ready to tackle him if he so much as flinched.

 

"I need to get my jacket," Mac replied. "I have something for you."

 

Jack looked intrigued. "What is it?"

 

Mac sighed. "If you'd let me get my jacket, you'd find out."

 

"I'll get your jacket," Bozer offered. "Where is it?"

 

"In my room." Mac didn't argue the point, he was smart enough to know he would lose. So he waited until Bozer returned, dropping his jacket in his lap. Fishing in the inside pocket, Mac pulled his hand back out a cell phone clutched in his fingers. He tossed it to Jack. "I already got Thornton to replace it, since it went missing as part of the mission."

 

Jack was thrilled, not hesitating to power it on and check it out. "That's my boy, always looking out for me. Thanks, Mac."

 

MacGyver grinned, pleased to see Jack so happy over such a simple thing. But that was Jack Dalton, content with the simple things in life and easy to please. Bozer tended to be higher maintenance, but all in all Mac knew he was a lucky man. He had the best friends anyone could ask for, and he wouldn't trade them for the world. Feeling himself getting over-emotional, Mac decided it was time for a distraction. "So what movie are we on?"

 

"Second one," Bozer replied. "We can start over."

 

"Sounds good." Mac spotted the remote and did just that, then he eyed Bozer as he queried, "Maybe we could make some popcorn?"

 

Bozer snorted. "And by *we* you mean *me*. 

 

Mac chuckled. "Pretty much."

 

"Extra butter?" Bozer asked, already knowing the answer. He jumped up and headed for the kitchen even before Mac nodded.

 

"Extra extra butter," Jack put in, not even looking up from his new phone.

 

Five minutes later they were passing around the pop corn bowl and drinking beer. The alcoholic kind for Bozer and Jack, and root beer for Mac. Jack couldn't resist keeping a running commentary and he only got popcorn thrown at him twice for his remarks, so he considered that a win.

 

Halfway through, however, Mac had to concede defeat. He was exhausted, achy and ready to stretch out and sleep for the next two days. Which he knew would never happen, because it had been years since he had slept more than a few hours at a time without being drugged to sleep. But even a few hours sounded like heaven about now. 

 

"I'm going to bed," he announced, receiving looks of approval from both Jack and Bozer. "You staying over, Jack?"

 

"If you don't mind, "Jack replied. The couch was actually very comfortable, which he knew from having slept over a time, or a dozen, or so in the past.

 

Mac clapped him on the shoulder, leaving his hand there to lever himself to his feet. "We don't mind, do we, Bozer?"

 

Bozer shrugged, a teasing glint dancing in his dark eyes. "Well, I don't mind so long as he keeps the snoring down. Last time he slept over he snored like a chain saw."

 

"I would be offended if I didn't know you speak the truth," Jack allowed. He helped steady Mac on his feet, because once the kid stood up he swayed a bit. Jack figured it was probably more from pure exhaustion than because of his injuries. Because the kid, for all he looked so damn fragile at times, was one tough bastard. He took a lickin', time and again, and just kept on tickin'. "Sweet dreams, Mac."

 

"Goodnight, guys," MacGyver offered, as he made his way into his room.

 

Bozer watched him go, resisting the urge to follow and tuck him in. He knew Mac had to have reached his tolerance limit in regards to Bozer's fussing. So he would give it a rest, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be checking on him periodically throughout the night. "So, Jack...you want to finish the movie or should I leave you to go to bed yourself?" Bozer knew the other man had to be exhausted too.

 

Jack held up the half-full bowl of popcorn. "Bring on Harry Potter."

 

"Excellent." Bozer wasn't ready to even try to sleep, so he moved to the couch for better access to the popcorn and locked his eyes on the TV screen.

 

Neither man stirred when MacGyver tiptoed over to the couch two hours later. The second movie had been replaced by the third and at some point they had fallen asleep. Mac woke up from what he thought was a nightmare but turned out to be a strange sound coming from the other room. Opening his door and creeping out into the livingroom, guided by the light from the tv screen, Mac froze when he caught sight of his friends on the couch. He couldn't resist going back for his phone. It was selfie time.

 

Leaning in from the back of the couch, Mac stretched out his arm, smiled and tapped the button. He then stared at the picture of his best friends, sound asleep, heads tipped into each other, both snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Mac had to take a short video, which he then sent, along with the picture, to Bozer and Jack's phones. After a moment of indecision, he also sent it to Riley's phone. 

 

Smiling to himself, Mac grabbed a water bottle and a banana before heading back to his room. By the time he had crawled back into bed, he had a text message. Despite the late hour, Mac wasn't surprised to see it was from Riley.

 

*I have plans for this*

 

Mac texted back. *Can't wait to see what you do*

 

*Why aren't you sleeping?*

 

*Why aren't you?* He countered.

 

*Point. Nite.*

 

Mac chuckled as he texted. *Nite, Riley* He then turned the phone off and set it on the bedside table, along with the water and the banana. Suddenly he was more tired than thirsty, or hungry, and he settled in and closed his eyes. Surprisingly Mac wasn't bothered by the snoring he could still hear, instead it soothed him into a dreamless sleep.

 

He even slept through Jack finding the picture and video on his phone several hours later.

 

"ANGUS MACGYVER!" Jack shouted. "YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!"

 

 

THE END


End file.
